Saturday, March 21, 2015

Love

I watched Mean Girls tonight. I have access to Netflix, which is a rare luxury and I used it to watch things I hadn't watched before (3rd Rock from the Sun was also funny).

I also read an Enneagram book lying around. I don't really know how the system works, but my best friend thought I might be a five, and after reading it, I think she might be right.

When you're a five, you have "delayed emotions," let's say. I know that feeling. I can be in the moment of something important and be so focused on the thing that is happening that I do not actively feel anything. It takes some time later to think about what happened, and then have the feelings there.

Now I am alone, and I am able to think, and have feelings.

Perhaps it is because it is late at night and I ate three servings of Junior Mints and a lot of orange Kool-Aid, and it is 11:30, but there are more feelings than usual. Love being one of them.

The Mean Girls movie is the first aspect. Not as in I loved the movie (I don't think I do) but I did love a part at the end. Cady jeopardizes her math teacher's reputation under a serious drug search through her house. Cady apologizes, and the first thing her teacher says is, "I forgive you." And then she proceeds to give Cady her punishment.

I also got a text. Just a short text to update my sisters and me, and say "we love you all." The text was emailed to me and ended up in my spam folder, and even though I didn't think to connect the number with the owner I clicked through on it. There were no names, no salutations, just a short text, but I immediately knew who it was from and why they sent it.

Because they love me.

Love is an interesting thing because even though there are 28 definitions on Dictionary.com it's really not the sort of thing you can ever fully describe, because love never really makes itself apparent in one sure way.

Forgiveness is love. It's insane how ridiculous forgiveness is; it doesn't say "don't worry, it's okay" but it defers justice. You can still be punished and it can still hurt, but you are spared the justice you deserve. The only reason? Love.

And the text was love, too. I don't know if there's another name for it. It would be very easy to not send a text, to not check up and to not say "I love you." But sometimes when you are missing things, small things get bigger to try and fill that space.

Even small holes that will fill back up again very soon. They still need to be filled. I don't know if love really fills that space, but it certainly tries. Yes, it certainly tries.